Gravedigger
by EstrellaPerry
Summary: One shot Cameron angst songfic. At our favorite place, on the rooftop. About one week after Cameron started working at PPTH. My first story posted here at this site but not my first story.


Disclaimer: The characters don't belong to me, yada, yada, yada. The song belongs to Dave Matthews.

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The wind blew across Allison Cameron's face as she walked on the rooftop. She carried her two best friends, a half full bottle of wine and a pack of cigarettes. She tried to hold back her tears. It was one of those days. Well, more like one of those weeks. She hated being the new doctor. First, that, oh what was his name, Dr. Wilson, accidently spilled coffee on her shirt. Then, she was screamed at by an old lady in the clinic because she said she wanted a real doctor. She sighed. Those thing weren't really making her upset, it was Michael. God she missed him. She took a long drink from the wine bottle. A tear fell.

Pine wood and tea. Her grandfather always smelled of pine wood and tea. He was the only one that believe little kids could have problems. He was the only one who listened. Another sip, another tear fell. A cigarette was lit and it's smoke made a smudge on the clear evening sky.

"Cyrus Jones 1810 to 1913  
Made his great grandchildren believe  
You could live to a hundred and three  
A hundred and three is forever when you're just a little kid  
So Cyrus Jones lived forever

Gravedigger  
When you dig my grave  
Could you make it shallow  
So that I can feel the rain  
Gravedigger..."

Jack. She knew Jack for exactly one month, ten days, three hours, and six minutes. He was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. If only she hadn't been playing that damn piano, maybe she could have helped him. Maybe SIDS wouldn't have taken her child. She was the only one that attended the funeral under the big oak tree. She was the only one who cared. Another tear, drink, and drag.

"Muriel Stonewall  
1903 to 1954  
She lost both of her babies in the second great war  
Now you should never have to watch  
Your only children lowered in the ground  
I mean you should never have to bury your own babies

Gravedigger  
When you dig my grave  
Could you make it shallow  
So that I can feel the rain  
Gravedigger..."

Sunday. Sunday was her favorite day when she was little. There was one particular Sunday she could remember. She and her sisters were in paisley dresses and matching braids. Linked hands and rhyming words. Children are so easily amused. They're so...happy.

"Ring around the rosey  
Pocket full of posey  
Ashes to ashes  
We all fall down

Gravedigger  
When you dig my grave  
Could you make it shallow  
So that I can feel the rain  
Gravedigger..."

Michael always talked about his ambitions. She loved that about him. She loved everything about him. She shook the bottle. Empty. She drops it over the ledge. As it falls, she remembers the pastor's words on her wedding day, "This ring is forged in fire, just like your love. There is no beginning and no end." He was right. Her love never ended and it never would. It would never change. People do, but people aren't love. They change and they can break. Just like glass, which is also forged in fire. The shattering of a bottle echoes through the silence. A tear falls and a cigarette is put out. No more fire.

"Little Mikey Carson 67 to 75  
He rode his  
Bike like the devil until the day he died  
When he grows up he wants to be Mr. Vertigo on the flying trapeze  
Ohhh, 1940 to 1992

Gravedigger  
When you dig my grave  
Could you make it shallow  
So that I can feel the rain..."

She never worried about death anymore. That "God" that you're supposed to believe in had taken away everyone she cared about long ago. Why couldn't she just die? God could kill everyone around her but not her? That's funny. She laughs and then screams, "LIFE IS JUST ONE BIG FCKING JOKE!" No more tears.

"Gravedigger  
When you dig my grave  
Could you make it shallow  
So that I can feel the rain  
Feel the rain  
I can feel the rain  
Gravedigger

Gravedigger."

Thump, crunch, thump, crunch. It was her limping boss, Dr. House. What did he want? He stepped up beside her and looked at the sunset. He spoke. "Life is a joke. A lame knock knock joke. Knock knock. Who's there? Life. Life who? The life that you've been living. I'm here to kick you're a$$. Oh sure come in." He looked at her. "I don't let him in. Get a padlock. Looks like you got you're a$$ kicked enough." She nodded and looked back at the sunset. Maybe she'd figure out how to deal with life and all it's a$$ kickings. Maybe she could kick it back.


End file.
